WBWB | Chapter 2

But the young master was neither the Queen’s son nor the firstborn. There is only one crown, and power does not desire rivals. That’s why no one dared to teach Young Master Mael, and consequently, I, with my meager experience of tutoring the Viscount’s daughter, ended up taking over the position.

‘Will I be in danger after His Majesty passes away?’

Despite my fear, I couldn’t leave Young Master Mael’s side. It wasn’t just about the money, I also felt sorry for the young master, isolated in the royal court without a single friend. No one, not even the palace maids, dared to speak with him. 

The nobles supporting the Queen would often shout, “Look there! The lard-ball’s bastard is coming!” as they passed by, insulting both the Duchess of Ventadour and Mael.

‘Lard-ball’s bastard?’

When I realized the term “lard-ball” referred to the Duchess’s full figure, I was shocked.

‘How could they say such a thing? To the King’s mistress, no less? Does His Majesty know about this?’

But Young Master Mael seemed indifferent, as if he had already become accustomed to such insults.

And I, too, gradually adapted to all these things that had initially seemed so strange.

Then, one day…

More than two years after I became Young Master Mael’s tutor, an anonymous accusation that a book by written by an Enlightenment thinker, known for disrupting the order of the monarchy, was in the young master’s study, turned the royal palace upside down. 

Who, with enough knowledge to recognize such a book, could also bring it into the study?

I was immediately identified as the culprit, accused of trying to taint Young Master Mael’s thoughts. I was dragged away by guards who suddenly burst into my room and imprisoned in the dungeon. Only much later did I learn about the charges and the incident.

“I’ve never even read that book! I’m hearing the title for the first time!”

It was true. But my pleas of ignorance were useless. The culprit had already been decided.

A few days after I was locked up in a dungeon, I received a summary trial, and the punishment I was given was exile.

“The crime of Jeanne de Toulouse, in collusion with subversive elements, attempting to corrupt the thoughts of Young Master Mael, deserves to be paid with her life. However, in consideration of the Toulouse family’s long-standing loyalty to the royal family, the criminal shall be exiled to the Duchy of Skadi.”

The judge’s words left me reeling.

‘Exile? Me? To the Duchy of Skadi, no less?’

But my unavoidable and unchangeable destination was the land of barbarians, the Duchy of Skadi, where the bitter wind blows.

The mere mention of Skadi chilled me to the bone.

I knew how the Duchy of Skadi was formed. Centuries ago, when barbarians from a frozen land across the sea invaded this land, reaching the very doorstep of the capital, the previous King, realizing their purpose wasn’t mere plunder but finding habitable warm land, granted them this territory as a fief. He ruled the barbarians with barbarians, recognizing their power quickly and making them his vassals, intending to repel future barbarian invasions.

His Majesty granted the chieftain of the strongest group the title of Count, along with the rough northern lands as his domain. Many barbarians settled there, cultivating and expanding the territory. 

Now, the chieftain’s descendants held the title of Duke, recognized for their contributions in protecting the kingdom from barbarian invaders in numerous wars. The North was now practically an independent nation teeming with those barbarians.

Rumor had it that even after settling in this land, their cruel nature hadn’t disappeared, as if it flowed in their blood. They enjoyed capturing enemies alive and impaling them on wooden stakes, like shrikes impaling their prey on tree branches.

‘They’re sending me to such a place?’

There was no time to prepare myself mentally. After the trial, the sentence was carried out immediately. I wanted to see my family one last time, but I was ordered to leave at once. Fortunately, the escort assigned to guide me to my exile was a compassionate man.

“These are from Young Master Mael.”

He handed me Young Master Mael’s letter and a small bag.

I read the letter first. I wanted to know what was really going on. In the letter, Young Master Mael explained that all of this was a plot by the Crown Prince’s faction to oust him from the royal family. He also apologized for involving me and promised that he would definitely pardon me someday.

But reading his letter only made me sigh.

‘Does the young master even have the power to do that?’

The situation seemed dire. This incident could lead to the downfall of even the Duchess of Ventadour and Young Master Mael, who were losing favor. In such a situation, would they have the time or resources to worry about a mere tutor?

‘I might never return.’

Folding the letter, I tried to commit the scenery, which might be my last, to memory.

“Mount your horse.”

The escort said.

‘They say that the winter in the Duchy of Skadi is covered in something called snow, and it’s cold enough to freeze a living person…’

Franc, the capital of Lances, had a mild climate, both in summer and winter, and it rarely snowed. It was clear that my current attire was unsuitable for my place of exile, but I wasn’t given a chance to change. Furthermore, I was ashamed to admit that I wasn’t good at riding a horse. However, it would be much better than walking.

I barely managed to get on the horse the escort had prepared and followed him. To a land I had never imagined visiting.

‘My thighs are so sore. I feel nauseous. I think I’m going to die.’

My thighs quickly became burning hot, and every time the horse swayed, a tremendous shock ran through my body from my waist to my head. Within a few hours, I had to vomit everything I had eaten while still on horseback. Noticing my condition, the escort rode close to my horse and led it instead, but that only barely prevented me from falling off.

The closer we got to the northern Duchy of Skadi, the worse the weather became, just like my future. 

As we rode north, the wind grew so strong that I could barely open my eyes, and drizzle and showers alternated, soaking me to the bone seven or eight times a day. We could stay at shabby inns at night, but that alone was not enough to provide me with rest. A few days later, a violent cough erupted from deep within my body, threatening to break my ribs.

The escort had to tie me to the horse to prevent me from falling. If a skilled rider had rode the horse, they could have reached the place of exile in about three days. However, it took well over fifteen days for me to set foot on his territory, and by then, I was completely at death’s door.

“We’ve arrived at the Duchy.”

Thick fog enveloped the entire world, obscuring my vision ahead.

‘Is this my place of exile?’

I mustered my last strength before losing consciousness and forced my blurry eyes open. I wanted to see what the place where I would live would be like.

‘Is this my prison, where I have to live from now on?’

But just like my future, I could see nothing before my eyes.

All I could see was a thick, dense fog surrounding me, like the sky’s dam holding back the clouds had burst.

I don’t remember anything after that. All I remember is the escort taking me back to a shabby inn, and on the plank bed there, my whole body repeatedly burned and froze.

Young Master Mael’s pleading letter, in which he swore to rescue me and begged me not to lose hope, flickered through my feverish mind. The faces of my family, who would be shocked to hear the news about my exile, appeared and disappeared.

‘Even I’ve ended up like this… what if Mother falls ill from the shock?’

There were times I resented my father, but I ended up following in his footsteps.

‘Blinded by immediate gains, I ruined everything.’

I had gambled with my family’s future and failed.

‘What should I do now?’

Following the question that I had no answer to, complete despair enveloped me.